Hidden Truths: Just Another Day
by Seaki
Summary: HungaryxPrussia. Something isn't quite so right with this picture, but at least Hungary is being kind today? Not a happy story. Oneshot.


**Bottle Message:** I'm sorry for this - it came out of nowhere! I disclaim! Also, whatever is in the parentheses makes the statement true to the situation.

**Hidden Truths:  
>Just Another Day <strong>

Prussia had to hold back (another) cry as that cast-iron pan hit him (again). He (was)n't scared – but it hurt. The words definitely (did)n't hurt – not as much as the repeated smack of the frying pan upon his too-translucent skin at least. And the pan wasn't fresh off the stove (this time)! That had to be a plus.

"You make me sick," the words were spoken calmly – anger all drained from the severe beating. A small sigh followed, as if Hungary was tired of having to do this so constantly – of having to tell him these words over and over. Prussia watched with wide eyes as she tsked, flipping the pan to survey how much blood was on the stove-side.

He pushed himself further against the wall, trying to ignore the squelch of blood as he shifted. He winced, the attention suddenly drawn back to himself. "Prussia," came the soft voice – it was like that of an angel, but the pan within her grip, he could just as easily renounce his faith and perish in hell.

It was quiet for a long moment, save for his own soft shaking and his teeth grinding together. He couldn't admit that he was scared – because he (was)n't. Hungary only gave him a long-suffering sigh, turning a chair up and flopping in it. Prussia watched her warily from the corner of the room.

This.

This never happened before. She would always leave after she unleashed her anger.

"Why do you do this?" she asked sharply. What had he done? He couldn't remember. Had she hit him that hard? He tried to hide the utter confusion and fear in his eyes by looking away. "I-I'm sorry," he murmured in response. He didn't help that the room wouldn't stay still or that he could barely remember his name.

"I… I don't feel so awesome right now," he said (weakly). He could practically hear her rage start to circulate the room, he knew she hated _that_ word, but he couldn't think of another way to phrase it. He was barely aware of her standing, knocking over the chair in her tirade.

He could feel the bile try to rise in his throat – when was the last time he had eaten anyways? He shook his head, but that made him far more aware of the throbbing pain in his head. He swallowed instead, but the contents of his stomach still rose and pushed past his lips.

He pushed away from the putrid bile – it mixed with the blood that was already on the floor. He looked up again, the room still spinning. He stared at the two women before him and gave a small laugh. But then, nothing.

Prussia couldn't recall falling asleep, or how he even got to a bed. There was no pain, which was the strangest thing – he always woke up with some sort of bruise or not-healed cut throbbing or infected. But – nothing. It was foreign and almost scary.

But he (was)n't scared at all!

But why could he not see. He persistent blackness was intimidating, and the constant _beep, beep, beep_ of something was keeping him from falling back asleep. He tried to move, but his body felt so, so heavy – almost as if he were being strapped down. He (was)n't about to panic though – that would be far from awesome.

That's when he heard the soft "…thank you, doctor."

Doctor? Was he in a hospital – that made no sense! Why? He gave a soft sigh, eyes fluttering open – was that why everything was so dark? It was too bright! Red eyes squeezed shut against the monstrously blinding overhead lights.

Not only that, but his body felt so much lighter than it had before. He gave a soft grown, and there was a flurry of sound and movement and such strange emotions filtering the air around him. Relief, happiness – he heard a shout for a doctor – "He's awake!"

Arms were tossed around him as soon as he sat up. There were murmurs and excitement, and he couldn't understand anything at all. As suddenly as the noise started, it stopped, and everyone was ushered out. A man in a stark white coat was talking to someone, and him, but all he heard was a buzz of muffled sounds, nodding softly whenever the buzzing stopped for a second.

He was released a week later. Hungary brought him home and sat him on the couch – one he remembered from what seems like so long ago. She offered him a soft smile, running smooth fingers through his hair – hair that was rough and oily from lack of care.

"How long was I in the hospital?" he finally croaked, voice rough from his unwillingness to talk unless he needed to. "Almost a month, dear," came the response. Prussia could only nod softly. It hadn't been the first time, and it probably wouldn't be the last time. He just couldn't keep Hungary happy. He shifted off of the couch, standing on now-sturdy legs, wrapping his arms around the woman who had placed him in the hospital.

"I love you," he murmured to her softly.

"I know."

**Bottle Message: **Short and kinda depressing, right? It's my headcanon that if Prussia and Hungary would ever get into a relationship, it would be an abusive one where hospital visits are frequent. If you weren't able to tell, Prussia had a concussion. Sometimes, the result is becoming comatose (most of the time it happens with car crash victims). Vomiting and dizziness are also symptoms of a concussion. What did Prussia do to warrant a punishment? Probably something minor, it's up to you.

Despite everything, I kind of like this pairing, but I can only see it happening if Hungary dominates. Sorry guys. Try ignoring the parentheses if you want to see Prussia lie to himself :(

This is pretty short - 866 words.


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